


At the Rainbow's End

by blublublah



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, John and Freddie are only mentioned, M/M, Sad Ending, So much angst, Terminal Illnesses, hurt Roger, kinda brian whump too, literally what do you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:39:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blublublah/pseuds/blublublah
Summary: Roger is diagnosed with a terminal illness. Brian remembers their relationship as he makes his way to the hospital, knowing full well that their time is running out.~Titel from All Dead All Dead by Queen





	At the Rainbow's End

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be out exactly one month ago but I’m bad at deadlines lol  
> To celeberate Valentine's Day and the release of the Borhap DVD (in Germany idk about other countries)!
> 
> If you want to set the right mood for the hospital feel free to listen to Samuel Barber - Adagio for Strings, Op. 11a (it fits soooo damn good)
> 
> Also I have no medical knowledge and I hope you all will just ignore any mistakes or misinformation.  
> I wrote this fic mainly to get some much needed Roger whump out but it turned out quite different…  
> Well, anyways please enjoy (or try to?)
> 
> *the italic is basically memories*

„Good Morning London, it’s looking like it’s going to be a beautiful day today. The sun is here to stay, we can expect clear weather until at least Sunday and the temperature is slowly rising again. Don’t let yourself be fooled though, keep a scarf and your boots at hand, it’s still winter folks!”

The cheery voice of the moderator was sounding through the little radio box on Brian’s desk, the weather prediction being followed by some new hit that Brian hadn’t heard yet and didn’t really pay any attention too; the music sounding from the other room only a mere background noise. 

Instead the man leaned over the sink in his little bathroom, his naked chest heaving heavily, hands clutching the cold porcelain bowl, arms shaking slightly as he held himself up. Brown, wide blown eyes darted over the stranger in the mirror. 

His curls were flat and frizzy, even more than usual; he was in a dire need of a haircut, he should also shave his face soon; he really started to look awfully like a caveman. 

Brian admitted, he really had let himself go these past weeks. His cheekbones stood out more - a result of his insignificant appetite over the previous weeks - bringing the attention to the dark circles laying underneath hollow eyes. He was too pale, he should go out more, get some sun and fresh air. The only color specks on his face were his raw bitten red lips. Too often he would get lost in thoughts, worrying the sensitive skin between his teeth until it would eventually break.

He raised one hand to carefully feel over the abused skin, his cold fingertips immediately reminding him of his boyfriends’ lips. 

Roger always whined at his chapped lips, complaining that Brian needed to take care of himself or else Roger wouldn’t kiss him anymore. Well, that was one thing he soon didn’t need to worry about anymore.

Stop thinking like that, he scolded himself, shaking his head to will the somber mood away. 

Running his hands under the warm water, he slowly felt the heat seeping back into him. He stopped looking at the stranger in the mirror, rather focusing on washing his face and taming his curls, getting ready before heading back into his bedroom.

Brian glanced at his calendar lying on his desk, almost covered up in books and notepads, pencil shaving and broken pens cluttered on top. 

Thursday, 14th of February 2019

It was Valentine’s Day. 

His heart ached in the rawest way, sadness and excitement fighting for the upper hand.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the date, thinking back to last year were Freddie had thrown a party for all his friends, running around in a way too revealing cupids costume and smacking everyone with a fake arrow to ‘spread the love’, even forcing them to also wear only red and pink that day. The photos really were something else.

Moving to the other side of the room, Brian stood in front of the wall that Roger had used to pin up all kind of photos and other memorial things, like concert tickets to their favorite artists, gas stations recipes from their road trip through Europe, and even small straps of paper with silly quotes from fortune cookies or doodles that Freddie had drawn.

The music was still rumbling in the background, the sun shining through the open window, keeping her promise to make this day rather beautiful. 

Brian took one last look at the picture up at the top right corner, Freddie had snapped that one, capturing the moment where Roger had fallen asleep on Brian’s lap for the first time, both of them not even close to knowing what was going to hit them.

Turning away from the memories of simpler times, Brian got dressed, grabbed the bag he packed yesterday and left his little flat to get some shopping done.

*

It was already late noon and most people were at work or school.

The streets weren’t as busy, mostly mothers going out for their daily jog or old couples looking for a place to get lunch at. 

London still buzzed around him and Brian felt himself relax in the familiar atmosphere he was so used to nowadays.

He needed to get some more guitar strings and blank note books, maybe he could take a look at the record store to see if they had anything new and interesting as well. It really had been some time since he could just go out and do whatever he wanted. 

No, he thought, quickly dismissing the idea again. He shouldn’t waste his time looking around right now. 

Sticking to his original plan, Brian decided to only get the things he needed and head back out onto the street.

Soon the familiar shop came into view and Brian slowed down a bit. 

There was an old guy standing close to the shop, a violin case laid out before him, the man currently tuning his instrument. A young couple was standing near the musician, waiting for him to get ready to play. Both of them keeping a respectful distance but still hanging close enough to let him hear their excited whispers. 

The guy had his arm wrapped tightly around the woman’s waist, keeping her at his side while she rested her head on his shoulder. They seemed lost in in their own little world as they waited for the music to start, the old man smiling at them and thanking them for their patience.

The scene in front of him reminded him of the first time he had met Roger. 

_He had waited for him to finish tuning his drums, standing dumbfounded on the other side of the small music hall, as he watched skilled fingers work on the rough metal rings and delicately working on the sound. The blond man had looked entirely engrossed in the task, tongue peeking out behind his lips, brows furrowed, blue eyes catching every movement, making sure everything went accordingly._

_The playful remark he had gotten, after asking what exactly Roger was doing there, had his own cheeks feeling way too hot. In that moment Brian didn’t know if it was the embarrassment of not knowing that you could tune drums or the shifting feeling in his stomach, the urge to never take his eyes off the blond again._

A breeze blew over the street, abandoned garbage that spilled out of the trash cans dancing over the asphalt, Brian focused back onto the man at the store. The old musician started playing eventually, the couple swaying slightly to the sweet melody. 

Brian didn’t recognize it and pushed past them into the store.

The girl on the counter already knew him, knew the entire band actually. She smiled at him, telling him about the new arrivals and asking about their next gig, babbling about her own music classes and how good she had gotten by now. He avoided the question about their next show and thanked her, nodding his head as he left the store just a few minutes later.

He had seen her a few times at their shows. She always hung in the back, pressed closed to her boyfriend, hands ranked in his hair they swayed slightly, even if they didn’t play any slow songs. Brian felt proud that their music made people lose themselves; he was proud of what they had already accomplished.

He still remembered the first gig he and Roger had played with Tim. Long before they actually got their shit together and confessed what everyone around them already knew;

_It had been chaotic and they had quite a few problems with the sound and lighting but in the end, no one had talked about that. Instead people had cheered on them, it had been a surreal feeling, Brian had looked back to the drummer behind him, feeling shocked and relieved and so happy; Roger had looked up behind his kit, smile so bright it must have hurt, his beaming face only increasing the warm, bubbling feeling in Brian’s gut._

Maybe he would play his new song to Roger today.

He walked down the stairs to the station, going over the lyrics again, maybe if he switched the chords, he could get a better rhythmic going. Brian made a mental note, to ask his boyfriend to help him later. 

Just as he arrived at the platform, the train came in. People spilling out, some of them carrying flower bouquets, others holding wrapped packages; the station playing a slow, light song, a feminine voice singing about love and other sentimental things. No one seemed overly stressed or upset. It really seemed to be a lovely day.

As Brian sat down on one of the few free seats, he noticed an advertisement for the Scottish Highlands. On it was a beautiful scenery, some hills during an enchanting sunset, an old castle to the right were the text had been printed.

It was advertising a trip to an old little town that he had never heard of, promoting the area and even offering a stay in the castle for you and your friends. 

Brian was sure, Freddie would love the idea to live in a real castle for a few days, but he knew his friend didn’t like the cold weather up there, so no point in bringing it up to him.

Still, the poster brought back another memory. 

Just as they had become ‘Queen’, the name was of course Freddie’s idea, and John had barely been with them for only a couple of weeks, they figured they should spend some time together to get used to each other.

They all had quite unique personalities so it would take some time to figure out who meshed best with who, how writing sessions would go, who would take care of the financials, the organization process and of course the song list and everything related to the recording sessions. 

So, before they threw themselves into their first real record, they decided to go on a short vacation together.

It had actually been John who offered to see if they could stay at this uncles’ farm in southern UK. They all had agreed pretty quickly, Freddie complaining for a few days that he would rather get off the isle and travel to Italy or Spain, but they were quick to remind him that they didn’t have money for such trips. The little they managed to earn often got spent for the instruments and rent and food of course.

During their summer break they had all stuffed their bags along with an acoustic guitar and John’s bass into Roger’s van and driven down to the small farm, talking and laughing along the way.

Brian remembered the last night at the farm.

 _It had been a hot day; the sun was out all day, shining down rather mercilessly. At dusk they all sat outside, gathered around a small fire, each a beer in one hand, talking about everything and anything for a few hours._

_Freddie was talking about a trip to Venice from a few years ago, telling them about the fashion, the people, the way of living seeming so differently from what they were used to._

_John listened attentively, always the good soul of the band, nodding along to the story while Roger had laid back in his chair, eyes lidded, once not hidden behind huge sunglasses, the fire catching in the blue, flames throwing dancing shadows on the relaxed face._

_His hair was a bit mushed; he had it tied back during the day only now letting it fall over his shoulders. Blond strands falling over his eyes, framing the pretty face; Brian couldn’t take his eyes of him even if he tired._

_Roger’s cheeks were full, maybe a bit too much ice cream over the last few days but Brian wouldn’t complain. They were flushed from the alcohol or heat, you couldn’t really tell and Brian’s heart jumped when Roger suddenly started to laugh, his boyfriends face scrunching up in amusement._

_The sound warming him more than any amount of sun could ever._

_As it had turned out, Freddie had asked him a question a few minutes ago and not gotten anything back beside a small hum, that Brian couldn’t even remember making, so caught up at the been with the sight in front of him._

_Now they were all laughing and Brian knew this was how life was supposed to be._

It was one of his favorite memories from their earlier days. 

Back when they had been carefree, dreaming about the lives as rockstars, traveling the world, conquering the crowds with their music, staying together until they were too old to hold their instruments, their fingers cramping and their voices giving out. 

Brian got off at the next stop, still lingering at the memories, his feet taking him to a little corner shop where he would get some lunch for him and Roger, knowing the blond would only complain if he didn’t get something as well.

It was true after all; he hadn’t really had an appetite these last few weeks, the nerves just getting to him, his stomach not really in the mood for anything edible.

Just the thought of sitting down in their empty kitchen, a bowl of luke warm noodles with too chemically tasting powder barely mixed in there, staring out of their tiny window to see the grey wall of the neighboring building; it just wasn’t a very inviting thought. 

Of course he could go out with John or Freddie, they always made sure to invite him, but in the end he knew he would feel too bad for bringing them down with his constant frowning and gloomy thoughts.

The sweet smell of sugar and baked goods filled the street and he was instantly taken back to the one time they spent Christmas at Freddie’s’ home, his mother insisting that they all stay at Freddie’s childhood home to celebrate the time together.

Brian didn’t really know why his friends’ family was so adamant to have them spent the holiday at their place, considering they didn’t even celebrate it but it was free food so he wouldn’t complain. 

_They sat around the small table in their living room, John wearing a horrible Christmas sweater his girlfriend had gotten him the year before, Freddie and Roger wrapped up in a blanket while bickering over the scrabble game they had played. As it turned out, it was quite easy to see the tiles of your neighbor if you sat not even inches apart._

_John and Brian had just laughed at their friends’ antics, already used to the pair that always seemed to find a new thing to disagree on. It was ridiculous really, one seconds they were at each other’s throats and a moment later they were whispering and giggling like little school girls._

_Brian loved them, and judging by Johns unimpressed smile, he did too._

_It wasn’t until later that night when it was time for presents, when Brian realized just how much he may be feeling for a certain blond drummer._

_Of course, he had spent hours and hours thinking about the unfamiliar warmth that seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach everything he heard or saw Roger laugh, the suffocating feeling when the drummer hugged him drunkenly, or crawled into his lap after a bad session wanting to be comforted._

_At this point, Brian was sure, he could write a bloody book about all of Roger’s antics and habits, no he could write an entire series, filling up a small library with stories about the blond._

_Well you get the point, Brian was pretty sure he had fallen for the charming, boisterous womanizer of their group. And that’s where it got complicated. Roger was just as interested in men as he was into getting a haircut, glasses and only wearing turtlenecks for the rest of his life._

_Not very likely._

_So, when Freddie announced it was time for everyone to exchange their gifts, Brian was surprised when Roger had actually seemed kind of ashamed when he handed his gift to Brian._

_The older man had gotten him a necklace – very corny, but Brian had actually only bought it because he wanted to see it on Roger – and a pair of new drumsticks. They even had Roger’s name engraved in them, which was pretty stupid since Roger broke his sticks every few weeks, but Brian had found them too nice to not get them._

_Roger practically avoided looking at him, his eyes darting around the room, mumbling a quiet apology as he pushed the little box into Brians hands._

_It had been a patch of plectrums and Brian already had a ton of them, but he still hugged the blond, thanking him with a soft smile. Roger could have gotten him shit in a bag and Brian would probably still be head over heels for the younger man._

_Later when everyone had their presents and the party had calmed down a bit, Brian noticed that Roger had disappeared. He had gone looking for their drummer only to find him out in the garden, smoking a cig._

_The two just stood there, looking at each other until Roger had squirmed under the awkward silence, apologizing again. Rambling about all the things he wanted to get Brian but he promised to take Clare, his sister, out during their break so he had to save money, and Brian just crossed the distance, placing his hands on the blonds’ arms, silencing him immediately._

_A moment had passed and then he leaned down, pressing his own lips onto Rogers slightly open mouth, finally kissing his best friend._

_And Roger kissed him back._

The rest had been history. 

As he looked over the few goods laid out in the display, he wondered what Roger would like more, the apple tart or a bunch of scones. Well it was Valentine’s Day so it called for something fancier Brian figured before ordering the apple tart and a sandwich for himself. 

“Could I get the tart in one of these boxes?”, pointing to the red, heart shaped paper boxes Brian smiled a bit awkwardly at the lady as she nodded enthusiastically.

“Someone’s going to be a lucky girl today” She winked at him and Brian just forced out another fake smile, his cheeks actually aching. 

“I guess.” 

“Thank you and have a nice day.” She called after him, as he quickly hurried out of the shop before his tongue got the better of him.

Brian thought about Freddie who was currently in Budapest with his boyfriend Jim. He always seemed to have a witty remark ready, a quirky retort on his tongue, never getting flustered or overly angry at the ignorant comments he received on an almost daily basis. The man was really one of a kind.

As Brian made his way to his final destination of the day, he felt his mood worsening again. Each step towards the cluster of white and grey buildings made his stomach churn and turn, his appetite fleeing again, his heart throbbing painfully.

He wished, he was stronger than this; he wished he could handle the situation better, be a better help for Roger, distracting his boyfriend from the times that laid ahead of them, making sure Roger never forgot how loved he was.

But here he was, anticipating every step up the cracked stairs, knowing that once he passed the wide doors, the cheery atmosphere of the sunny day would instantly tilt, the clean smell of antiseptic would make his nose itch and the bright white of the fluorescent lights would hurt his eyes, bringing all these bad memories back, leaving Brian in an even more somber mood.

Nonetheless the man stepped through the doors, all the noise of birds and cars and people going on about their life, dying instantly; replaced by the eerie melody of silence mixed with muffled conversations and clattering noises of hurried steps and medical carts being shoved around the worn tiles. 

The waiting area was only sparsely occupied, a few children sitting huddled together staring at a game console, a young woman flipping through a magazine and an old couple probably resting before leaving the place to enjoy the rest of this beautiful day.

Brian ignored them, instead he kept his head low and headed towards the elevators.

He tugged his jacket closer around him, somehow feeling like he was being watched by the staff or the other visitors. He felt like, they judged him, their eyes following his every move, trying to see what he was doing here today.

It made him uncomfortable and he didn’t really know where that feeling came from, he had been here a hundred times already, never had he felt this out of place. 

The first time had been by far the worst one. 

Brian staggered a bit as the memories of that one fateful day came back to him. He pushed the elevator button hoping to push these memories away as well, but they still flooded his mind, the call echoing in his ears, the images fluttering before his eyes.

 _The day had started with yet another migraine on Roger’s side. His boyfriend often complaining about his head throbbing all the time, dizziness overtaking him as the lights hurt his eyes and noises threw him off at the most ridiculous times._

_And if his head wasn’t the problem, his back hurt, aching from the lack of sleep probably, or he felt sick, nausea settling in the pit of his stomach and Brian often just had assumed it was from the lack of exercise or sleep, or caused by the wild nights and Roger’s very intense alcohol consume. Brian really hadn’t thought much of it back then. It was a very logical result of being drunk almost everyday and living your life without thinking about tomorrow._

_When they played or were out in the clubs all pain seemed to subside but once they were at their flat or at university, suddenly everything seemed to be too much for the blond and Brian wondered just how much was real and how much was just Roger’s imagination._

_So, when his boyfriend had whined about the clattering coming from the kitchen - probably caused by Freddie – Brian hadn’t thought much about it, instead he promised Roger to get some medication and spent a night in with him._

_Later that day he had been in class, listening to his professor informing them about their next assignment, which sources to use, and Lily had asked him about getting lunch together; he still remembered being a bit surprised by her request and politely declining as he wanted to just grab a quick bite before heading over to meet up with John._

_Instead when he had grabbed his bag, already on his way of out of the lecture hall, checking his phone, Brian had noticed a missed call from an unknown number._

_He contemplated to just ignore it, but in the end, he couldn’t shake of the antsy feeling and decided to call back._

_The caller turned out to be one of Roger’s friends from one of his classes. Brian had been again a bit surprised as to why any of boyfriend’s friends would call him but that confusion soon turned into something more morbid, making his stomach drop._

_The guy, Thomas, barely managed to recap what happened, tumbling over his own words, trying to recall the incident._

_To cut it short, apparently Roger had fainted during one of his classes, just collapsing on the floor, hitting the back of head on his way down, without regaining consciousness until the medical staff arrived, who then proceeded to lay him on a stretcher and take him to the nearest hospital._

_Brian hadn’t even fully registered the words as he was already pushing through the crowds of students to get to the entrance. Quickly he waved over a cab and told the driver to take him to the hospital where Roger had been admitted to._

_During the short drive - Brian was convinced, it hadn’t been only 15 minutes but instead hours - the man tried to sort his thoughts. His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt dizzy and almost disoriented as he thought back to the many times Roger had complained and he had ignored it or simply waved it off._

_He had been short of a panic attack when the cluster of white buildings had come in view and after throwing a bunch of bills at the driver, tumbling out of the car and almost falling face flat on the pavement, Brian rushed into the hospital._

_His brain had been throwing a million questions around, his hands clammy and twitchy, his heart not slowing down, he needed to see Roger. The lady at the reception had told him where he would find the drummer without asking too many questions, Brian wanted to thank her a thousand times, and then he was on his way._

_It had been some time since Roger got admitted and the head wound wasn’t that serious so they had already transferred him to different wing of the hospital._

_Brian had taken a deep breathe before mustering up the confidence to push the door leading to Room 417 open, his hand shaking slightly as he closed it behind him, before finally turning around and taking in the sight._

_He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He could only stand and stare._

_Brian cursed at himself, he needed to get a grip, Roger was right in front of him, he had a head wound and was probably hurting and needed him!_

_Still, the sight of his boyfriend, head covered in bandages, skin sickly pale, eyes scrunched shut in pain, the blue blanket almost swallowing the petite body, it was all too much._

_Hot tears pooled in his eyes as he finally willed himself to move, crossing the room, pulling a chair close to the bed, sitting down and taking Rogers cold hand into his own._

_Careful not to wake the other man, he gently caressed the hand, squeezing it in a desperate attempt to show Roger he wasn’t alone, that Brian was here and waiting for him._

_Brian had felt sick to the stomach that moment._

_In the end, Roger had woken up quite soon and while he seemed a bit disorientated, he quickly recovered and was back to his usual uncaring self in a matter of hours._

_The doctor had spoken to Roger in private but for what Brian could tell, it hadn’t been that severe. Otherwise, why would they have let Roger go without as much as a follow up appointment?_

The numbers on the digital screen counted down and soon the doors slid open before him. He stepped into the metal room and pressed the numbers for his destination.

Though it seemed that ever since that day, something had changed. Something within himself had changed for the worse and Brian didn’t know if it could ever be set right again.

Ever since then he had tried to make sure that Roger didn’t drink that much anymore, ate healthier, cut back on smoking, workout more, got more fresh air and it seemed like it helped.

The complaining stopped and when Brian wanted to know when the appointment was going to be, Roger told him not to worry about that. He had already taken care of that. And Brian had been so stupid to believe him.

A few weeks after the accident Roger had another episode, it had caught them all by surprise as they had thought after months of not even a migraine, Roger had finally gotten better. 

_John was watching some videos on his phone during a break at one of their band practices, it was something stupid, just some childish test with robots and how to manipulate them. There was a lot of sudden sounds and flickering and suddenly there wasn’t anymore._

_Roger had taken the phone out of John’s hand and flung it across the room._

_“I told you to turn it off! Can’t you use headphones?” Roger was shaking in anger and something seemed off. Of course, their drummer was known for his temper outburst but never ever had he exploded like that at John of all people._

_Freddie didn’t have any of that, quickly pushing himself in front of their perplexed bassist, who was seemingly torn between looking for his phone while also being frozen to the spot._

_“Okay that’s enough, even for you darling. You do remember, that you were the one to break Deaky’s headphones last week, right?” The voice was controlled but it sounded a bit too vicious to be considered calm and collected._

_Brian also came up to them, pulling Roger away from the fuming singer and the frozen bassist. He wanted to ask Roger what this was all about when the drummer shook his hand of and lashed out at him._

_“Don’t touch me, I told you before, I don’t…” for a moment the anger had been forgotten; stumbling back and bringing a hand to his head, fingers clutching his hair, a pained whimper left Roger’s lips before he collapsed._

The elevator stopped but they weren’t at the right floor yet, instead a nurse joined him. The woman nodded at, taking a place next to him as she wanted to press her number in and then realized they were already heading to the same destination.

She smiled at him, it was a genuine smile but there was no real happiness behind it. 

It was the same girl that had brought in the doctor that day, the day after the accident at band practice. Of course, they had called an ambulance and Roger had been taken back to that hated cluster of white. 

When Brian had been back at the hospital and when Roger had awoken again, the blond had laughed it all off, smiling brightly at Brian who was still very much shaken up from the whole experience, who couldn’t share the laughter, who had been only able to stare at Roger’s tired and pale face, wondering when it gotten that bad. 

The same girl that had smiled at them, back then it had been full of sorrow and pain. It hadn’t reached her eyes; her whole demeanor had been reserved and almost guilty. She didn’t look at Brian or at Roger, she had only stared at the back of the doctor, concentrating on keeping her smile on.

She had been there when they had gotten the news.

That sounded wrong. The sentence maybe, more fitting Brian thought; That was what it had been after all. Like a sentence it seemed, inevitable and unmerited. One day you wake up with the love of your life next to you and in a band with your best friends, studying your favorite subject, living a fairly good life…

And the next moment you sat in a white hospital room with shitty lighting and bad isolated windows having a doctor tell you that he was sorry, that there was no way of putting it lightly, that there was no other way to say it.

Brian choked at the memory. 

He didn’t actually remember everything the doctor had told them back then, all that medical stuff that he didn’t understand, but that Roger understood just fine and he didn’t remember the exact words he started to understand again, but he did remember the answer Roger gave them.

The answer he gave his doctor without even thinking about it for more than 30 seconds, the answer that would not only just change their lives forever but would lead one of theirs to an ineluctable end. 

_I don’t want that._

Brian had lost himself back then, he had roared and yelled at Roger for being so stupid, at the doctor for not doing anything, at the nurse for just standing there and not looking at them. He had cried and sobbed, had apologized and held onto Roger.

And Roger?

He had just held his hand, wiped away the tears and smiled at him. An apology on his lips, guilt in his eyes and pain hidden underneath it.

The doctor and nurse had left them, and Brian had still held Roger, had still clutched onto the other man as if his own life was depending on it. And in that moment, it had. 

He shook the memories off, leaning on the cold elevator door for a moment, trying to regain some composure. 

Brian now knew why Roger had decided against treatment. 

Why the blond has chosen to spent his last few months, more like weeks, on this earth living his usual life. He knew how rare glioblastoma were in young people. He knew what they did and how to treat them. He knew what cancer meant and how high the chances of recurs are. He knew, better than any of them, how high the chances of recovery were, especially discovered this late. 

Still even though he knew all that now, he still wondered just how much more time they would have if Roger had been to the doctors back after the first accident. 

But he couldn’t go there; not now, not ever. It would be pointless suffering.

Just a second later they arrived and they both excited the elevator, parting again and Brian was thankful for that.

Brian got of the elevator when the door opened again, now on the right floor only a few hundred meters away from his boyfriend, from Roger.

He walked slowly, his stomach turning and twisting at the familiar walls and smell, everything seemed too intense, too much, too real. He wished he wasn’t here, didn’t have to walk down these halls, feeling like he was falling and drowning at the same time.

This feeling of dread, of building fear and their impending fate was tough, holding him back like an invisible wall, keeping him from walking too fast, from getting there any time soon.

They hadn’t told any of their friends what the doctors had found. Brian wasn’t even sure Roger’s own family knew about it, though he doubted he would keep it from his mom or sister, it would be cruel.

He also hadn’t told him what exactly was going on, Freddie and John knew something was wrong, something was going to happen and it hurt Brian that he had promised to stay quiet, to not tell them what was about to happen.

Only a few days ago Roger had been admitted to the hospital since his illness had gotten too bad and Brian used every free minute to come here and accompanied Roger and entertain him with little stories of their friends and school and what was going on in the world. 

But their time was ticking. Brian had of course, looked up all the things he could find about brain cancer, it’s symptoms – he really should have realized something was wrong a lot sooner -, the treatment – why didn’t Roger at least operate? – and of course the chances of recovery. 

But even with operating the tumor, chemotherapeutics and radiotherapy the chances were still slim - they were not even slim, they were basically non existential; only 10 percent lived up to 5 years and that was only when the treatment started early enough. 

At some point Roger had asked him to stop. To stop looking for a solution that wouldn’t be there, to stop wasting night after night to stay up late only to come up with nothing; to stop this and instead come back to bed with him, go out to lunch with him, to instead spent time with him, as they both knew they only had so little left.

When Brian finally reached right door, he took one last deep breath before knocking softly, not waiting for a response he quickly slipped into the room.

As soon as Brian stepped into Roger’s view, the blond looked up, eyes lighting up, a beaming smile on his lips.

“Brian!” the usual soft voice was rough from the lack of use and when Roger gestured for Brian to come and take seat next to him, his hands were shaking slightly, still the eagerness radiating from the small blond was a blessing for Brian’s aching heart.

“Hey love, how are you today? Were you able to sleep any last night?” He discarded his jacket before pulling the chair back up to the bedside and sitting down, instinctively taking Roger’s cold hands into his own. 

“A bit tired, Maggie didn’t want to give me any coffee, said I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, but other than that I’m fine.” The small pout was adorable and Brian leaned forward to press a quick kiss on the chapped lips. “Well, she’s right about that. With all your sleeping troubles you don’t need any more caffeine to keep you up.” 

Rog rolled his eyes but didn’t say more about the matter, instead just leaning back into the pillows and looked at Brian, a soft smile on his lips, eyes still sparkling with excitement but somehow duller than yesterday, the dark circles had only increased over night. 

Brian frowned, letting go of Roger’s hand to instead tuck some of the lose strands of hair behind his boyfriend’s ear and gently caressing the pale cheeks, grazing over the delicate skin, wishing he could smudge the darkness away and replace it with the usual rosiness.

Roger let him, either too tired to put up any more fights or too comfortable being petted and just basking in the affection and love of the other man.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

Brian scoffed, but he wasn’t angry; he couldn’t be, not at Roger at least. “You’re annoying and loud and infuriating and passionate and caring and so damn intelligent even if you act like a 5-year-old most of the time but Roger, you are not fine. Dumbass”

His voice was soft when he spoke again, without accusation or mockery. He cupped the round face in his hands and pinched the cheeks a bit, playfully of course, a slight tint of pink returning to the ashen cheeks.

“Ouch, stop!” Roger shrugged his hands off, trying to sound mad but failing miserably as he couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up his throat.

Brian couldn’t help but laugh as well.

For one moment everything seemed fine again. The tumor, the pain, the darkness, the sorrow, the hate and their fate were forgotten. For now, there was only them, their love and their happiness and what they made of it.

Once they both calmed again and Roger looked a bit less like dying, Brian brought out the little gift he gotten for this special day. The small apple tart, making sure to not spill all the crumbs over the bed before finally stop fussing and letting Roger have it.

The corny packaging was ripped apart and while Roger’s didn’t comment on it, you could clearly see the love smitten look on his face. 

With erratic moves the blond slowly managed to get one bite on his fork, bringing the food to his mouth and chewing loudly, trying to cover up his poor agitation with nasty manners. 

Roger didn’t like looking weak or helpless, which had been one of the reasons why he barely told anyone about his illness. He didn’t want their pity or apologies, the looks and whispered words they thought he wouldn’t see or hear. He didn’t want to be treated like an alien, everyone would be too careful with him, too considerate, forgetting just how much of a wild spirit he was while doing so. 

Brian understood and respected that, even if it meant lying to their closet friends and families. He couldn’t break his promise to stay quiet not if he tried to, he just loved Roger too much to disrespect him like that.

After a few more very pathetic tries to get the tart cut up and into his stomach, Roger looked ready to throw his fork straight across the room. He didn’t though, instead he just stared at it, or well more at his hands. The anger faded and remorse settled on his face. 

Brian couldn’t bear to watch this any longer, not willing to let small tears leak from the overcast ocean of blue, he took the utensil in his own hand and batted Roger’s hands away.

Brian knew it pained Roger deeply that his own hands, the tools he had used for years for everything – writing, eating, scratching, drumming - that they were no longer moving accordingly to his demands, it was heartbreaking.

He planned on just feeding Roger the pastry but his boyfriend just shook his head.

“I’m not even that hungry. It tasted great though! Maybe we can eat some more later…” And that probably wasn’t even a lie. Roger’s appetite had been decreasing over the last few weeks, so it made sense that such a sweet treat would probably fill him up in no time.

“I’m glad to hear that. You know, I actually had a new idea for a song. If you want, I could show you some of the stuff I’ve come up with.” 

It was an obvious try to change the topic, Roger loved talking about music even if the two of them normally didn’t have the most successful writing sessions their sense of music direction still was very similar. 

As predicted the blond nodded, already intrigued with the idea of hearing new music from his boyfriend. 

Brian didn’t show Roger any of the lyrics, the sad meaning of the song often being too much for Brian himself to work on, he couldn’t unload all that emotional abyss onto his boyfriend who would only feel guilty and pained by the lines. 

But they could work on the melody, so when Brian pulled out his phone to let Roger listen to the recorded piano melody that he already recorded, Roger was quick to hum along and throw in some suggestions. 

Luckily the melody was rather upbeat so Roger couldn’t have realized how depressing the song actually was. How it was basically about their love and lost future. 

After some filing and discussing the general tune Roger suggested to still bring in some drums, even if Brian hadn’t really been keen on that idea. 

Who would play them when Roger was gone?

Roger had tapped out a low beat, his hands still not obeying him completely but it didn’t seem to bother him that much anymore, too engaged in getting the tune right and actually contributing something to Brian’s song. 

After a few hours they both agreed to let the song rest for the moment, it was almost finished anyways. Roger kept asking him about the meaning and what lyrics it was going to have but Brian just shrugged and instead told him about the record store and the musician in front of it.

He told him about the bakery and about the pictures on their wall. They both reminisced the days when most of the photos had been taken, talked about their friends, about the band, about their families.

At some point Roger grew more and more quiet, letting Brian take over the conversation. Too tired and exhausted to keep up the façade. Brian didn’t mind, he knew he couldn’t expect Roger to be as animated as he had always been before everything happened.

Instead he made sure to keep the topic’s light and sneak in a joke or two, to keep that pretty smile on his boyfriend’s face, to distract him from the pain and agony he was surely in, to remind him he was still an important part of Brian’s life.

This went one for a bit until Brian’s own stomach growled, upset that it hadn’t been fed in some time. Roger sat up at the sudden sound, looking a bit startled as he shot Brian a questioning look.

“Are you hungry? You can have the tart, I don’t think I can finish it anymore.” 

Brian winced at the word phrasing and shook his head, he wanted Roger to have it. It didn’t matter if he would only eat it tonight, tomorrow or the day after that, it was his gift.

“No, I want you to have it. I actually brought something along for myself” The tall man grabbed his back and pulled out the sandwich he had gotten earlier today, it was already a bit squashed and didn’t look all that appetizing anymore but Brian wasn’t about to complain about his own stupidity.

They sat in silence while Brian munched on his food and Roger drew lazy patterns on his boyfriend’s unoccupied hand. The fingers were warm enough but the movement was sluggish and without much power behind it. 

It seemed like it took Roger a lot to even manage the simple gesture though so Brian appreciated it nonetheless.

After he was finished, the night had already set and he knew the nurse would soon come to get him as visiting hours were surely over soon, he scooted closer to his boyfriend. The sullen silence was deafening and Brian yearned for Roger to say something but somehow, he was unable to say something himself.

He laid his head down on Roger’s lap, holding the warm body close to himself, relishing in the familiar scent and feeling. The clumsy fingers were now gently running through his curls, stroking him slowly; he closed his eyes and tried to imagine them being at their flat instead of this cursed hospital. They were laying on the bed after a stressful day at school, just basking in each other’s company, letting their worries vanish and their bond deepen.

Sadly, this was only wishful thinking. Who knew if Roger would ever step another foot into the little place, they proudly called their own?

The fingers stopped and for a moment so did Brian’s heart. 

Whipping his head around he looked at the blond, the sudden fear melting away as blue eyes found brown ones. 

But the look those eyes carried still threw Brian off. Something was definitely off. Horribly off.

“I called my mom this morning. I talked to her and Clare. They wanted to come tomorrow.”

Huh, so Roger did in fact tell his family about his illness, or at least that he had been admitted to the hospital, that was good right? Or was it?

“Brian can you promise me something?”

Not liking the serious tone Roger was using, Brian swallowed but still nodded. He tightened his grip around his boyfriend’s waist but sat a bit to give Roger his full attention.

“Be happy.”

Roger closed his eyes for a moment, pain overtaking his expression for a moment, a low moan escaping his lips but he quickly silenced it. 

With gentle but cold hands, Roger cupped Brian’s face, stroking the rosy cheeks, just like Brian had earlier this day, repaying the gesture.

“Live your dream.”

Brian wanted to interrupt, wanted to stop Roger from saying all this nonsense, he didn’t want to hear that bullshit, he couldn’t hear that now – or ever.

A thumb over his lips stopped him though.

“Shh, let me finish. Please.”

Roger took a deep breath, choking a bit – from the pain running through his body or the emotions overtaking him, who really knew?

“Live your dream. Promise me that. What ever your dream may be, don’t let this, don’t let me stop you. I don’t know if you will become a rock star, astrophysics or whatever, just promise to fulfil your dreams, live your life to the fullest without any regrets and please, don’t make the same mistakes as me.” 

The thumb ran over his cheek again, catching something wet; tears. Brian hadn’t even notice them, they were running freely now but Roger’s fingers worked hard to catch them.

Brian wanted to say something, anything; but he was still unable to figure out how. His mouth was dry and his throat hurt, burned as if he swallowed sand or rusty nails. 

The blue eyes above him also seemed blurry now, red rimmed with unshed tears but Roger still didn’t cry, still had to continue. 

“Don’t forget about your family or your friends. Keep them close to you, let them know just how much you care for them. How much you love them.”

Again, Brian wondered just how much Roger was really keeping to himself, how many people had he told about this and what exactly this was and meant.

A strange sound escaped him, mortified he realized it had been a sob ripping through him. Silent and pained. He wanted Roger to stop. He couldn’t be serious. Why was he telling him all of this now? 

He sat up more, scooting closer to his boyfriend, ignoring how the hard plastic of the bed dug into his thigh, he just needed to be closer to Roger, needed to show him he wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t leave him alone. 

His fingers grabbed the hips rather harshly, needing something to ground him, something to remind him that Roger was still here and alive. He would surely leave ugly marks on the porcelain white skin and he was sure it probably hurt like hell but Roger didn’t shrug away from his touch, only kept on stroking his face, his hair, reminding him he was still very much here. Right now, Roger was still with him.

“Brian, I love you so much, more than I ever thought I could love somebody. You showed me just how to love someone, how it feels to be loved. I could never express just how much you mean to me or the fact that you are here tonight, but please, don’t forget that there is a world out there waiting for you!”

Now Roger couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, silently they made their way down to his chin before dropping onto his nightgown. 

“Please promise me to live your life.” Even when I’m not longer there.

Roger didn’t need to say those words out loud. 

That’s when it hit Brian.

This was a goodbye. 

Roger was saying goodbye to him. Roger was telling him to move on and live his life once Roger was dead. 

Nausea twisted his stomach in pain, another pitiful sob wrecking him as he realized the finality of Roger’s words. His head hurt at the thought of having the love of his life no longer around him. His throat burned with unspoken words of denial and misplaced anger. His heart ached, feeling like it was turning inside out in attempt to cope with the overwhelming sadness that overtook him. 

“Brian. Please.” Roger sounded faded, but the urgency was still evident in the rough voice. Fingers weakly pulled at his curls, before lifting his chin up and tugging him towards the blond.

“I don’t have much time left. Brian, I am sorry for everything and I know,” Roger had to stop, his whole body shivering in pain but he fought until it subsided for a moment. 

“I love you. Brian, I love you so much and I am so thankful for meeting you, for getting to be your friend…your boyfriend even. Thank you for loving me, and thank you for staying with me until the end. But Brian, I need you to promise me, please…”

Again, he had to stop but this time it seemed from pure exhaustion. 

Finally, Brian found his voice. 

“I love you too, fuck, Roger I’m not mad at you, don’t apologize, Roger do you hear me? I love you and I am not angry or anything.” To emphasize his words, he leaned forward to press a kiss on Roger’s lips. 

It was desperate and without much heat but it was full of love and affection and when Roger kissed back, it seemed like the world was okay for one tiny second until they broke apart again and it wasn’t anymore.

“I promise, you hear me sweetheart? I promise, I will live my life! I don’t know if I can but I’ll try too, I promise. God, Roger I love you so much, I…”

His voice broke, he was sobbing now. Tears and snot running down his face, he ignored it. His eyes were fixed on Roger, who’s own face was just as messy as Brians.

But he smiled, a really genuine smile, his blue eyes glistering wet and touched. 

“Thank you. I think that’s it now…I’m so tired of the pain, Bri…” Roger was still smiling, his eyes still meeting Brian’s but he seemed to stare right through him. His fingers no longer moving, no longer catching the tears, his chest heaved slowly;

Brian leaned forwards again, stroking the messy face, clearing off the mixture with his thumb before humming his song again. This seemed to catch Roger’s attention again, his eyes focused again, beaming at Brian one last time before the lids slowly fell shut.

Brian kept humming even if his whole body screamed at him to move, to shake Roger, to get a nurse, the doctor, anyone. To do something.

But he couldn’t. Frozen he sat there, stroking his boyfriend’s face, hoping to soothe the pain somehow while humming his song, helping Roger one last time to find his peace.

Soon the breathing evened out, the chest no longer raising and the tears sealed.

Brian didn’t notice the loud protesting sounds the heart monitor made, the door almost slamming open or the nurses who rushed in to realize it was too late. He didn’t notice any of the calls or tugging, the hands on him or Roger, his eyes only focused on the sleeping form of his boyfriend.

Somewhere form the hall sounded a radio, cheerful music in the background a lady rambled over the daily happenings before saying goodbye to her audience.

“Good night London, what a beautiful day it was today! I hope you all had a great Valentine’s day, and if not don’t worry, next year is another chance” Her laugh fizzled out into music and then the sound was cut again.

The door having fallen shut again. 

The humming continued. 

_All dead, all dead_  
_All the dreams we had_  
_And I wonder why I still live on_  
_All dead, all dead_  
_And alone I'm spared_  
_My sweeter half instead_  
_All dead_  
_And gone_  
_All dead..._

**Author's Note:**

> All dead, all dead  
> At the rainbow's end~
> 
> this turned more into Brian whump but I guess that's fine too, isn't it ;)
> 
> Sooo, are you guys still here? Did you make it through all that mess? Did you like it? Did you feel anything? 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you thought of this,  
> either in the comments or I'd love to chat with you on my [Tumblr](http://mrdisrespecthood.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> Thank you for reading and until next time
> 
> xx


End file.
